#he looks somehow MORE like a piece of shit than when hes a literal bloodsucking vampire and I Don't Trust It.

[squea]

@literalite said human! Cornelius i say being a vampire is all he HAS!!

[terrorandtales]

Where the fuck are you supposed to start with something like this? My therapist has encouraged me to try this exercise to help with my night terrors. Which I trust her. Dr. M is one smart cookie. I’m just scared shitless to have all of my night terrors come to life while I’m awake. The whole point of this is to redirect the story. Control the narrative and directly know that they aren’t in fact real. They may share some oddly sick similarities, but hey Doc knows best so let’s dive in.

Arctic Tundra

So I’m trying to piece this together eloquently. It’s been a few days since I had this night terror. Bear with me please. Alright like most dreams/nightmares how are we supposed to know where the beginning, middle, and end are. Could it be that the end is the middle? The middle is nomans land, and the beginning nonexistent? Does time even exist in this pandora’s box, this colorful brain of mine? Half the time I don’t even know if it’s me in the dream as the lead character. Most of the time I am, but sometimes I feel like I’m a ghost floating through these nightmares scene to scene. Still, living the God awful fucked up shit, but seeing my physical self below my floating self just asking the other me, “what in the actual hell is happening? Can I wake up now? Let’s set the scene…

My other me (I guess my sleeping me) is seeing my physical me in a Biergarten walking around aimlessly. Fretting about some assholes that look like storm troopers rounding up the masses. It almost feels like we’re all the Anne Franks of the world in this place. My brother, sister, and Jean Paul (my lover) are in the dream. So these motherfuckers find our hiding spot which honestly isn’t hard to find because it’s literally the Biergatedn I’ve been to before in real life on a drunken Seattle night. Anyways, we all start panicking and make a run for it through these hidden secret hatches on the floors. Tear gas is dispersing and those fuckers are closing in. I lose sight of my brother, sister, and Jean Paul. I think they made it out before me. So I’m running and trying to get through this secret hatch with all of these panicked people. The hatch turns into a ceiling shaft. Almost like the one in the movie Posidean where they were all trying to escape a sinking cruise ship that was overturned by a tsunami wave. Anyways so I’m panicking because I know those God-awful Sith bloodsuckers are coming for us. The person in front of me is crawling and turning the corner then he starts screaming because he gets blasted in the face with this green and orange acid that starts burning his flesh off immediately. Kind of reminds me of the contagion movie where those people started bleeding from their eyeballs. Sick stuff man. Don’t ask me how it smells because I have no idea. I haven’t had the terrible pleasure of smelling burnt skin in my waking life. So his skin starts peeling off, his eyes are burning out of their sockets. Meanwhile, I’m in shock and trying to crawl back to get away from him and the acid. I don’t know if there’s more coming!! So I’m like what the hell!! When I turn around on all fours which I think is much faster than crab-walking backward up a metal shaft by the way the scene changes again. Now I’m on an airplane. The seats are gone. Everything is stripped away. I’m in what looks like a cargo plane, but the emergency windows look like the ones on a Boeing 737-800 aircraft. There’s padding along the sides of the aircraft and I’m not alone. There’s a little boy stuck inside with me and we’re trying to get out before the plane sinks in the arctic ocean. I’m scrabbling around to try to get the windows open. The first two exits I try are jammed because I guess the plane hit an ice burg or something and it’s dented in. We’re peering out the smaller windows and we can see people lined up in huge parkas with gear. They made it off the plane, but somehow we’re the only two left. The snow is coming down hard and whistling so loudly. So they can’t hear us screaming for help. You can barely make out the faces of the people because of the blizzard. Plus they have their heads down to protect their faces. I look at the kid and say, “don’t worry we’re going to get out of here. We’ll be okay.” I can feel the bile rising in my throat and the butterflies in my stomach. I feel guilty because I honestly don’t think we’ll make it out alive, but I can’t lie to this kid. So the third emergency exit that I try and put all my strength into opens miraculously! I yell to the crying kid, “come on let’s go!” He gets up and runs to me. I throw his gear out first and then push him out of the plane. Meanwhile, the plane starts jerking violently. So I know I’m running out of time. I throw my pack out of the exit. When I try to get out the exit seems to become smaller. All of a sudden I can’t fit. I start panicking. Screaming for help, but they can’t hear me. I’m crying and try to use my arms to push along the ice-cold plane to push myself out. My tears are freezing to my face. My lips are burning because of the cold. My lungs are on fire, but I’m still fighting. I can see the plane approaching the water. “I’m going to die,” says my sleeping self to my physical self. Then before the nose of the aircraft hits the water I wake up shaking and gasping for air. (End Scene)

Okay, so now here’s the part where I take control of the narrative and direct it elsewhere. So which part do I change? Nomans land, end, the nonexistent beginning? Just seems like a lot of work, but we’ve come this far. So let’s pick up from this particular part of the ending scene “I’m going to die.” Ready? “And scene!” “Action”

As I close my eyes preparing for my doom strong hands grab my forearms and violently pull me out of the aircraft seconds before the tip of the aircraft hit the water and the ice underneath gives. I can’t see the person’s face at all because my eyes are closed shut with fear and ice streaked tears. All I can hear is the loud crashing sounds of the ice breaking and the aircraft sinking into the ocean. The blizzard is swirling around us like we’re in the eye of a hurricane. My body feels like ice and I’m so scared I refuse to open my eyes. I just let myself be carried by these strong arms. I feel the wind swirling around us still. I can hear the air and feel the wind pick up. All of a sudden the terrible cold starts to fade. I start to feel warmth coarse through my body. I feel my cheeks start to warm. The wind starts to die down, and those strong arms...Wait Cut! Let’s talk about that for a min. Not a dream min, but a real-life minute or two. The arms holding me are just arms. I don’t imagine anyone. I don’t even imagine the body of a man or woman. If anything it’s more the comfort of them and the bravery of them. They’re magical; invisible strength and comfort you’d feel from a father figure. Caring arms, strong arms, non-judgmental arms. What I’d imagine Hagrid’s arms to feel like as far as size is concerned. I’m remembering that particular scene when he’s carrying Harry’s body back to Hogwarts, minus the death because these mystical God fearing arms saved my life. Anyways let’s get back to the scene. Ready? Take 2! Or is it 3? Anyways, Action! The wind starts to die down, and those strong arms holding me lie me down on what feels like the softest fur, almost like what I’d imagine the Lorax’s fur would feel like. Finally, when I start to feel this immense calmness overcome me and flood through my body I decide to slowly open my eyes. I’m in a white vast 2-dimensional allusion. I’m on a soft mound of grass resting underneath a Pink and orange Truffula tree that smells like papayas and lemons. My skin is glowing like I’m Joy, from the “Inside Out” movie. Except I’m still me. My skin is just the same, just bright and I feel warmth, love, and wonder coursing through my body and mind. When I look up into the white nothingness the scene changes again. Now I’m looking at a beautiful night sky lit up by green, white, purple auroras. Shaped as beautiful people dancing to the music I can’t hear. I’m sitting up against the Truffula tree and peace overcomes me; a faint smile comes across my lips and I fall into a deep slumber. (End of scene)

Okay, Dr. M!! I see what you’re saying. This was a very enlightening experience. I can feel that peace and comfort right now. I feel safe and adventurous. Off to the next one I suppose.

Goodness, I’m writing these back to back. So I’m going to be on a roller coaster of emotions. Extreme fear, anxiety, wonder, enlightenment, and finally peace. It’ll just keep repeating. Rinse, Freak Out, Repeat. No matter, I’ve been putting this off long enough. I have 4 more stories to share. They’re all blending together so I better hop to it.

[deepseawritings]

For the prompt thingie, would be great if you did 96 with Scar and Strelok

At first I hadn’t planned for this one to be related to the previous prompt, but then I started writing and this happened. It’s much more silly lighthearted than the other one:

Prompt 96. “Here, let me.”

Deep down Strelok knew it was a waste of time,but for some reason he’d decided to humour Scar. Maybebecause there was little else to do here in the Great Swamp, while they waitedfor Doc to get better.

Scar had found an abandoned military jeep notfar away, and it got in his head that, since the ground here wasmostly plain, moving around in a vehicle would be far better than trekking upand down the swamp when it was time to leave again. Somehow, Strelok didn’t remember exactly how it happened, he ended up confessing he didn’t know how to drive. Or if he ever did, he didn’t remember anymore. For some unfathomable reason, Scar decided it washis mission to teach Strelok to drive. So far, he didn’t remember ever needing to drive in his life, but it wasn’t like his memory was perfect. Strelok still had some sizeable holeswhen it came to remembering his own past.

That was how he found himself where he was now,eyeing the abandoned jeep with thinly veiled mistrust. At least the car didn’t look rusted, so it probably hadn’t been out there for a long time. A small relief, since it was lesslikely the car would fall to pieces as soon as they started the engine. Herecame another small problem: they would have to hotwire the car.

He watched amused as Scar fumbled with thewires beneath the steering column, mumbling to himself “Okay… let’s see…” and had the impression Scar waswinging this more than actually knowing how to do it.

“Do you have a knife?” Scar asked him. “I need to peel a couple of wires.”

Of course Strelok had a knife, he carried hislucky knife everywhere. It had saved him from more than one angry mutant.  “Sure. Here, let me.”

He more or less shoved Scar aside and set towork on the ignition and battery wires. Some things he did remember, especiallythe hour long discussion he once had with Fang about the best way to steal acar. All purely theoretical, of course, but only because they found no cars for a practical demonstration.

“Okay, now you onlyneed to bring those two together and done!” Strelok turnedaround to face Scar, who kept looking at him like he’d grown a secondhead.

“You don’tremember how to drive, but you remember how to hotwire a car?”

Strelok shruggedoff his surprise. “One of my friends liked to talk about electronics and anything that hadto do with wires.”

They hopped intothe car without a further word. The first impression Strelok had when sittinginto the driver’s seat was the vehicle had been made by giants and for giants. Shit, hisfeet barely reached the pedals! Weren’t those supposed to be important for driving? He tried to adjust the seat while the Scar launched onto anexplanation about the pedals, and the stick and lever between the seats.

“… I think thatcovers it for now. Try to start the car,” Scar said whilewatching him like a hawk from the co-pilot’s seat.

Alright, thatshouldn’t be so difficult, right? Just hold down the clutch, put first gear andaccelerate gently. He could do that. Wrong. The engine started with no problem,but the vehicle didn’t move an inch.

“What’s wrongwith this piece of junk?”

“The handbrake,Strelok,” Scar reminded him, amusement colouring his voice.

Oh, right! He putthe brake down and everything went fine for about five seconds. Thenthe car suddenly stalled and Strelok collided against the steering wheel. Whata great start.

After a few morerough starts, Strelok finally got it right. The military jeep moved confidently through the plain, trampling over the rocks and brittle bushes inthe way like it owned the place. That was a pretty cool feeling.

“I think I’mgetting the hang of this,” he beamed at Scar, who hummed in agreement.

“Yeah, you’redoing fine. Try to change into second gear.”

He went for it,and the car then swerved sideways, drifting like it had life of its own. Whatthe hell? Strelok grabbed the steering wheel tighter, like that would make himregain control.

“That was thehandbreak, not the gear stick!” Scar shouted at him. Oh yes, because that was very helpful right now!

“How do I –”

Something crashedagainst the rear end of the car, and through the rear mirror he saw somethingodd. One second there was nothing and the next a vaguely human-shaped figurewas sailing through the air. The figure literally disappeared before he could seewhat happened to it. Holy shit, he’d just hit a bloodsucker! However, nowthat the car had stopped drifting, he had more pressing concerns. Like the facthe was in a straight course to the water.

“Fuck, that wasunexpected,” Scar was still looking through the rear mirror, and thus he missedStrelok’s panicked face when he pressed on the brakes.

“This shit isn’tstopping!”

“Okay, try to –”

The vehicle hadbeen slowly veering left all this time, and was now running into a thicker patch ofvegetation. They collided against a small tree whose thin trunk broke uponimpact, the wood splinters scratching the underside of the vehicle with ahigh-pitched, irritating sound. Then they hit another one. And another.Thankfully, after three successive impacts, the jeep finally stopped, scratchedand abused beyond belief. Strelok let out a shaky breath and marvelled at thefact they were whole and unscathed beyond some bruises.

“That was a greatlesson,” Strelok deadpanned as he watched a thin plume of smoke rising from thecrumpled hood of the car. “Very educative. I learnt at least two ways of making the car crash.”

Scar grunted,whether in pain or in disagreement was hard to tell. “Let’s nevertalk of this again.”

He nodded in agreement,that was a great idea.  At least theirlittle joy ride hadn’t taken them too far away from Doc’s cabin. He’d hateto have to walk a long distance right now, he ached all over from the impact.

“Hey Scar, how doyou feel about giving me a piggyback ride?”

PS: In case it wasn’t evident, I have never driven a car, so if this is riddled with mistakes don’t doubt to correct me.

[euphxmia-pxtter-blog]

Overheard (a Saphael fanfic)

When Alec got back to the apartment- sweaty, grimy, and bleeding- after a particularly long demon hunt, he intended to go in immediately, down a large mug of tea, and take an hour-long shower. That was the plan, until he reached the door and heard voices inside. Who might Magnus have invited over? he wondered. He wasn't worried or threatened; they'd grown past that. He was, however, extremely curious. The voices were hushed and serious. One of them clearly belonged to Magnus Bane, Alec's boyfriend. The other sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. As quietly as he possibly could, Alec inched open the door just enough that he could see and hear them. Shockingly, he immediately recognized the other person as the vampire Raphael Santiago. He knew Magnus had once known Raphael, but he wasn't under the impression that they were still friends. And yet, there he was. More surprising still were the words being spoken. "-know what to do," Raphael was saying. "I think he likes me too, but I've never heard him explicitly state his romantic orientation. Besides, maybe I've been pushing him too hard lately. Ever since our spat about the Shadowhunters, things have been a little strained. You know what I mean?" Raphael is here for... relationship advice? And who is he talking about? Magnus only chuckled softly. "Raph, you've got to know that ridiculous boy isn't going anywhere. He's obviously head over heels for you. You should have seen him rushing around in a panic after you told him to leave the DuMort. 'Is this gonna be forever? Am I not going to see him again? Will I be replaced as Advisor to the Interim Chapter President?' Honestly. It was like he somehow wasn't aware that you invented the stupid position just so you could keep him around." "Wait, so you think he's..." "Look, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. But you have to promise not to let slip I said anything. Okay?" "Yeah. What?" "A little red-haired birdie told me that Simon Lewis is undoubtably and unabashedly pansexual. He has, apparently, alluded to the fact a dozen different times around the Shadowhunters, but they don't acknowledge him enough to notice. So just go for it, okay? What's the point of living forever if you don't live?" Alec thought his head might explode. The leader of the New York vampire clan was in his apartment, getting relationship advice from Magnus, and crushing on Simon the Daylighter, who was apparently also pan. Would wonders ever cease? Sensing the conversation was coming to an end, he closed the door silently and then made a big show of throwing it open. He tried his best to look exhausted, as if he'd just been fighting. "I'm home, babe! Oh, hi Raphael! I'm surprised to see you here." Raphael smiled uncomfortably. "Yeah, well. Just- you know- checking in. I do that now and then. I should probably be going now, though. Umm... thanks for having me!" While talking, he had gotten to his feet, pulled on his shoes, and was hurrying out the door. Alec squinted after him, playing dumb. "What was all that about?" Magnus just smiled blankly. "No idea." @. @. @. Alec didn't say anything about the conversation he overheard, but it didn't end up mattering. Unbeknownst to him, a related discussion occurred just a few days later. It was early in the evening, when most of the vampires were still asleep. Simon, restless and anxious, had snuck out and called Isabelle to meet him for lunch. He used the term very loosely, of course, since no restaurant he'd ever been to had 'fresh blood' on the beverages menu. Really, he just needed to talk to someone, and Clary was working a duo mission with Jace. "Simon, what's the matter?" Izzy said as she slid into a booth across from him at the local McDonalds (no need to be classy). If Simon could still blush, he'd probably be doing it. If he still had a heartbeat, it would most likely be racing. As it was, his hands somehow shook a little. "It's... umm... Well, I guess the truth is... Oh fuck this; I'm in love with Raphael." Izzy blinked. It was the first time she'd ever heard him curse, for one thing. For another- "Aw shit, Si. Now I owe Clary ten bucks. Geez, couldn't you have waited another two weeks?" The look on Simon's face was priceless. "What? You thought you were so discreet, didn't you? But I'm not as stupidly unobservant as my brothers, and Clary's your best friend, and she already knew you were pan. It wasn't hard to piece together." She rolled her eyes and he laughed nervously. "Alright, that's fair. But help me out. What am I supposed to do?" Izzy snorted. "Well, I'm not really the leading expert on guy-on-guy, but-" "You know what I mean," Simon whined. Izzy held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Look, don't be subtle about it. You like him? Tell him. Show him. By the Angel, kiss him. Whatever floats your boat. Just act." "But what if he-" "Act." "But what-" "ACT." "Okay." After that, the conversation devolved into fluffy 'girl talk'. "So, what is it that you like about Mr. Grouchy Suit-Wearing Vampire anyway?" Izzy asked, resting her chin on her fist and leaning forward interestedly. Simon gave a kind of giggle, and his fangs poked out a little as he pondered his answer. "Well, for one thing, he's not really grouchy all the time. He always gets me out of tough spots and oversees my training and makes sure the other vamps don't beat me up. And he plays piano really beautifully, though he rolls his eyes if I say so. And he'll mutter jokes under his breath when he doesn't think anyone can hear, because he's a lot more of a dork than he wants anyone to know. And he always smells a little like vanilla. And sometimes he just zones out into space and gets this lonely look in his eye that just makes me want to hug him. And-" Simon broke off and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I was babbling." Izzy smiled. "Sometimes we all need a minute to babble. Now go get your man." @. @. @. It was neither Alec nor Isabelle who confirmed Simon and Raphael's relationship. It was a chilly night, maybe a week after Simon spoke with Izzy. There had been word of rogue vamps attacking mundanes nearby the night before, and one very annoyed blonde had been sent to get more info from the Head of the New York clan. He bounded casually up the steps, seraph blade held loosely in one hand (just in case things got ugly). He pounded on the front door of the DuMort. "Hey, bloodsuckers!" he yelled, by way of greeting. There was no response. "Creeps! Leeches! Losers!" he called, not necessarily in an aggressive tone of voice. Still, no answer. Irritated, he just picked the lock and let himself in. He knew where Raphael's office was, due to- in his opinion- an uncomfortably large number of visits. He trotted up the stairs, humming to himself, and turned the handle of the office door, pushing inward. "Hey, bro, I've been sent to ask about the-" He froze, eyes wide. As he'd walked in, Simon and Raphael had sprung apart like they'd both been electrocuted. Raphael's normally-perfect hair was disheveled, and two buttons of Simon's shirt were undone. They'd clearly been making out. The three stared at each other for several long seconds. Jace was dumbstruck. Simon was grinning awkwardly. Raphael was stone-faced for a moment, as if deciding on an emotion. Then he smirked slightly at Simon. "Guess the cat's out of the bag now, isn't it?" "Guess so," Simon responded, comfortably taking the other vampire's hand. Jace was still looking back and forth, mouth agape, trying to process. "You... you're... what, dating?" Raphael shrugged. "Yeah, seemed like about time. I got some advice recently-" "And so did I," added Simon. "-and we both ended up agreeing that it was damn good advice, so here we are." "Thank Magnus and Izzy for us, would you?" This was another bomb in Jace's mind. "Wait, they both knew?!" "Yeah, man," Simon told him, like it should have been obvious. "Clary, too." "I'm also pretty sure Alec was eavesdropping when I spoke to Magnus about it," Raphael put in. Jace groaned. "So I'm literally the only person who didn't know?" "Yeah, pretty much."